Desperate Lovers

Chapter 367 I Hope You Won't Feel Bothered Then



Chapter 367 I Hope You Won't Feel Bothered Then

"I'll handle it," said James as he came up to Angela and kissed her on the hair, "and don't worry. I'll

always be behind you."

Seeing James like that, Angela felt a great compulsion to tell him everything. But she finally said

nothing.

"James, we can do these things together," said Angela as she didn't want James to solve any problem

alone, which made her to have no idea what he was doing and thus she couldn't completely trust him.

"...okay. After the baby is born, I'll tell you about whatever I'm going to do before I do them and I hope

you won't feel bothered then," said James as he rubbed her nose gently and went out in a coat.

Watching the car of James disappearing around the corner, Angela called her brother Greyson.

"What's the matter, Angela?" answered Greyson in a second. It sounded that he was in a noisy

environment where a lot of people were arguing.

Before Angela could say anything, she heard someone shouting at Greyson, "We are in a meeting now,

Mr. Greyson. Can you be serious? Don't you know how much our share price has fallen by?"

"Nothing. You may mind your own business first," said Angela.

"Okay. I'm a little busy now. I'll call you back after the meeting. Oh, don't forget to come to my office this

afternoon to acquire your shares," said Greyson.

"Okay," replied Angela.

Greyson hung up in a hurry after Angela replied.

Soon after Greyson hung up, there was a knock on the door.

'Who's knocking? Does James forget something?' thought Angela as she came to the door and

glanced through the display screen - Mrs. Brown and her son Salim Brown were standing outside the

door.

Angela froze and clenched her fists.

While knowing that it was she herself who invited Mrs. Brown to their house without knowing the

relationship between Mrs. Brown and her mother Elva, Angela couldn't help blaming Mrs. Brown as her

mother wouldn't have killed herself so soon if she hadn't met Mrs. Brown.

Closing her eyes to calm down, Angela walked stiffly to the sofa and sat down.

[What's the matter, Angela? You look unhappy. You can tell me as it's not good for your health to bottle

it up.]

As Angela seemed to hear the voice of Elva, she looked back and wanted to call Elva, only to see a

mass of air.

'Mom is already dead,' realized Angela.

Angela knew that she couldn't bear the temperament of Elva if Elva was still alive.

But as Elva was already dead, Angela began to regret.

That was how people were.

As the annoying knocks sounded again, Angela stood up with a frown and came to open the door.

"What's the matter, Mrs. Brown?" asked Angela without even inviting them to come in.

Mrs. Brown looked pale with her fox eyes-like eyes red and swollen. She opened her mouth and her

tears went down before she could say anything.

Angela just looked at her coldly.

"We just come to mourn Mrs. Chante. How could you be so cold?" said Salim discontentedly.

Glaring at Salim, Mrs. Brown said, "I've told you not to yell at Angela like this. Do you want to drive me

angry?"

"Why are you so angry? I just feel angry for you..." mumbled Salim with his head down.

"Get away if you yell at Angela again!" said Mrs. Brown impatiently.

Discontented, Salim just snorted at Angela and said nothing more.

"Angela, I've heard that you are not going to hold a funeral for your mom. Is it true?" said Mrs. Brown

with a frown, "It's appropriate to give her a proper burial, isn't it?"

"If they care about it, they wouldn't have driven her mother to commit suicide," said Salim unkindly.

"Shut up!" said Mrs. Brown as she glared at Salim and pushed him away, "Get away and don't bother

us here!"

Salim was pushed to stumble and almost fall, but he said nothing more with a sullen look on his face.

Trying hard to suppress her emotions, Angela grabbed her clothes and said, "Mom didn't want us to

hold a funeral for her. Is there anything else, Mrs. Brown?"

Discontented, Salim wanted to say something but gave up after being glared at by Mrs. Brown.

"Then where is her urn? Can I see it and send Elva a bunch of flowers?" asked Mrs. Brown with a

frown.

"Do you know why my mom didn't want us to hold a funeral for her, Mrs. Brown?" asked Angela.

"Why?" asked Mrs. Brown.

Feeling difficult to breathe as if a soggy cotton was stuck in her lungs, Angela said, "Because she was

guilty that her hesitation had caused the death of her friend."

"And she didn't want to see anyone else except my brother Greyson and me."

Stunned for a moment, Mrs. Brown said in a raised voice, "No way! We've been friends for decades of

years. How could Elva not want to see me before she died?"

Mrs. Brown just responded the same way as how Angela's father Lorenzo responded when he knew

that Elva didn't want to see him.

"Wait a minute, please," said Angela as she went to fetch Elva's suicide note on the second floor and

handed it to Mrs. Brown, "You can read it yourself if you don't believe it."

Suspicious and nervous, Mrs. Brown took the suicide note and unfolded it.

Angela said, "Although Mom didn't make it clear that she didn't want to see you, she had sighed more

than one time that she shouldn't have made friends with you. As she is already dead now, you..."

"No way!" shouted Mrs. Brown as she took two steps backward with red eyes and wanted to tear the Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

suicide note with a crazy look on her face.

With a sudden constriction of her pupils, Angela quickly stepped forward to take back the note and

asked harshly, "What are you going to do?"

The note was the only thing Angela's mother had left.

"No, it's not true!" growled Mrs. Brown with a tear-stained face, "I always took revenge for her and

protected her once she was bullied in the past!"

"I even helped her to confess her love to Mr. Lorenzo when she fell in love with him. I've helped her so

much and regarded her as my best friend. How could she say me like that for Alisa?!"

'We are both her friends. Why was Elva always partial to Alisa?'

'I always thought about her and never let her wronged. How could she treat me like this?'


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